Perfect Wreckage (The Wrecked Series Book 2) Page 2

  I closed my eyes, trying to block out the pain slicing at my chest. “How could you?”

  He scoffed. “You really think I was going to wait around for years when you were locked up tighter than a drum? Just because you’re the hottest girl on the island doesn’t mean you’re going to lead me around by the balls. God, you’re so damn naïve.”

  All it took was one spark. The discovery of one lie that ignited a chain reaction, revealing all of the other deceits. But the worst realization of all was that there was no way Grant loved me. He never had. I was only a pretty face to him. A beautiful possession. That spark sent the future I’d been building in my mind, the home I’d thought would be my forever, up in flames.

  Grant began backing away towards the lawn. “I don’t want a damn thing to do with any baby. If it is mine, then get rid of it. Because if you don’t, you’re on your own.”

  I reared back as if he’d physically struck me, though that would’ve been less painful. “You don’t mean that.”

  “The hell, I don’t.” Those hazel eyes I loved so much hardened with a glint I’d never seen before. “My dad warned me you might try and pull a crazy stunt to get me to stay. Said you’d try to guilt me, to manipulate me. But I never thought you’d stoop so low. You make me sick.” With that parting blow, he tore off, moving up the hillside and towards his house.

  My body trembled as I sank to the rocky sand. If I didn’t sit, I worried I’d fall. I pressed my back against the worn wood of the log. This was one of my favorite spots on the estate. A place I’d always found peace. Somewhere that reminded me how limitless the Universe was, and how small I was in it. I’d always found that comforting, as if whatever I struggled with was so tiny compared to the vastness of the sea surrounding me. Now, I just felt empty. Totally and completely alone.

  I pictured the ocean rolling up, the waves swallowing me whole and pulling me out and into that expanse. I craved it, letting myself go. I blinked against the sting of the salt air.

  I guess I wasn’t so different from my mother, after all. Eighteen. Pregnant. Alone. I gave myself a good shake. No. I’d fight with tooth and nail to make sure that’s where the similarities ended. Even if I had to do it with no help at all.

  1

  Kenna

  PRESENT

  “How the hell has she roped us into doing this foo-foo bendy stuff more than once a week?”

  Bell laughed as we watched Caelyn ease Harriet into a gentle stretch. “Because you love Harriet more than any other human on this planet, and the foo-foo bendy stuff has been good for her blood pressure.”

  I huffed and leaned back on my mat. Bell was right. Yoga had been good for Harriet’s heart and her spirit. Plus, it was an excuse to get outside and enjoy The Gables’ grounds. No matter how much time passed, I never tired of the gorgeous view.

  “You’re supposed to be in pigeon pose, Kenna. That looks great, Bell.”

  I growled something unintelligible at Caelyn before getting into the posture. “Teacher’s pet,” I groused at Bell.

  She grinned and shrugged. “I like yoga.”

  I sighed and attempted to relax into the stretch. I did my best to force my mental to-do list out of my mind, to not think about everything I could’ve used this hour and a half to accomplish. It was Saturday, and I was with my favorite people in the world. These women were my rocks. They’d been beacons of light when my entire world had been pitch-black.

  And now, years later, we were all back on the island where we’d grown up together. Time had passed, but the closeness we shared hadn’t changed a bit. If anything, it had grown stronger, the bond cementing itself into the marrow of who we were.

  “How are things with Henry?”

  Bell’s question jolted me out of my memories. I pushed deeper into the stretch, relishing the bite of burn. “They’re fine.”

  “Sounds like things are hot and heavy, just full of passion.”

  I grabbed the towel at the end of my mat and chucked it at her. “Not everyone gets reunited with their lost love and spends days at a time locked away in their brand-new house in the hills.” But not everyone wanted that either. If I never saw my lost love again, it would be too soon.

  The smile fell from Bell’s face, and I wanted to kick myself. “You deserve real love, Ken. Not just the imitation kind that makes you feel safe.”

  I focused my attention on switching my pigeon pose to the other side. I didn’t want to think about just how little of a spark I had with Henry. “We’ve only been on a couple of dates. It’s not serious.”

  Bell made a humming noise. Years of friendship meant that I could translate the sound to: bullshit. I cleared my throat. “So, how’s the new space coming along?”

  It was just the thing to ask. Bell’s eyes lit with excitement, something I hadn’t seen in my own in a decade. “I think it’s going to be perfect. I should be ready to open the shop doors in just a few weeks.”

  I twisted to face her. “That’s great. You couldn’t find a more ideal location.” Main Street housed all of the essential tourist stops for our small island of fifteen hundred people, and it was just a stone’s throw from the bar Bell’s fiancé owned. “Is Ford happy?”

  “He’s happy I’ll be so close to The Catch, but you know him, he wanted to float me the money to rent the biggest, most extravagant space we could find.”

  I chuckled. “Of course, he did.” But Bell would never take him up on something like that. She needed to make her dream of owning a furniture shop full of her painstakingly restored pieces happen all on her own. And I respected the hell out of her for it.

  “How are things at number crunchers?”

  My lips twitched. Bell had never thought accounting was exactly thrilling. But I loved it. While the world was shades of gray, my job was all black and white. Every problem had an answer, and I could always find it.

  But there was a flicker of jealousy whenever Bell spoke about her new shop. I’d considered going out on my own more times than I could count. Thoughts of getting out from under my ogre of a boss and steering my own ship were incredibly tempting. But every time I imagined taking that first step toward owning my own business, I balked. What I had now was what was best for me. A stable salary, health insurance, a 401k.

  I gave my head a little shake. “Everything’s good. My client load has eased up now that Karen is back from medical leave—”

  A loud whistle pierced the air. “Ladies, what did I do to deserve to be greeted with such a sight?”

  I bristled at that low, rumbly tone and immediately straightened from my stretch. “It’s called being a peeping Tom, and I’m pretty sure it’s an offense punishable by jail time in all fifty states.”

  Crosby grinned, his whiskey-colored eyes twinkling with mischief. “You wound me, Brown Eyes, and after I went to all this trouble to bring my favorite ladies lunch.”

  I scoffed. “Sorry, but we’d rather not be a part of your harem.”

  Crosby winked at Bell. “I love it when her sass comes out. Ford sent me over with all of your regular orders.” Bell might as well have melted on the spot.

  I elbowed her in the side. “Don’t fall for his winks and charm just because he mentioned your man.”

  She laughed. “Sorry, you’re on your own with this vendetta. I like Crosby, and I love the panini that I’m pretty sure is in one of those bags.”

  “See, she likes me. It’s only a matter of time before you come around.”

  “Look what the tide dragged in, my favorite fella.” Harriet shuffled forward, but Crosby crossed the grass to make it easier for her to reach him, bending so that she could press her lips to his cheek. Why Harriet had chosen Crosby McCoy as her lawyer, I would never understand. And try as I might to get her to consider someone else, she’d never budge. She adored the man-boy.

  Crosby held out his arm, and Harriet looped her hand through it. “Let’s go into the kitchen. We can eat in there.”

  We started towards the main house, and I
mumbled something about slacker lawyers invading my life.

  “You just think I’m invading your life because you look for me everywhere.” I jolted at the sound of Crosby’s voice. “Just admit you’re in love with me already, it’ll be much less painful for us both.”

  I let out a cross between a scoff and a snort. “Sorry, lover boy, surfer dudes just aren’t really my thing.”

  “Paddleboarding. I’m a paddleboarder. Though I wouldn’t mind a trip to Fiji to learn how to surf. I could take you with me. You, me, a little bikini, and margaritas on the beach.”

  I glanced over my shoulder. “I didn’t know you liked wearing bikinis so much.”

  Crosby let out a stage whisper. “I’ll wear one if you will.”

  Harriet chuckled, and I couldn’t help the snort of laughter that escaped me. The man really would rock a bikini if I agreed to wear one. “Harriet, is this really the person you want representing your legal interests? He’s liable to show up in court in a string bikini.”

  She grinned. “It would certainly make legal matters more interesting.”

  “I’d pay good money to see that,” Caelyn offered up.

  Crosby arched a brow. “See, some people appreciate me. What about you, Miss Harriet? Will you head to Fiji with me so I can learn to surf?”

  “Only if you get me one of those cabanas with a young stud to wait on me. And there have to be French fries.”

  Crosby squeezed her shoulder. “You’ve got yourself a deal.” He reached into his bag and pulled out a carton of fries. “Just starting off this adventure on the right foot.”

  Heat simmered along my skin. “Crosby, she can’t have those. It’s not Sunday.” With all of Harriet’s heart issues, we kept her to a low cholesterol diet every day but Sunday. That was our cheat day. Crosby knew this.

  “Oh, lighten up. It’s the kiddie size, it’s not going to send her cholesterol skyrocketing.”

  I tightened my hold on my yoga mat, my nails digging into the foam. “You don’t know that. I’ve set a meal plan with her doctor, and we’re sticking to it.”

  Crosby met my stare. “At her last checkup, the doctor said she was doing great, right? What’s the harm in a treat now and then? Come on, just because you want to live the same predictable life day after day, doesn’t mean Harriet has to.”

  “Now, Crosby,” Harriet warned.

  I squeezed the mat harder, the rubber letting out a squeak of protest. I heard the word he wasn’t saying: boring. So what if my life was mostly the same, day in and day out? Predictable was steady, it was safe. I knew what to expect, and there were minimal surprises around the corners. That’s what I needed. Someone who canceled plans, never had set business hours, and got his kicks from dangerous, extreme sports would never understand.

  I swallowed back the curses I wanted to level at Crosby and did my best to keep my tone even. “Yes, all of Harriet’s levels look good. Because we’ve been following this plan.”

  A grin split Crosby’s face. “Well, I’ve been bringing her French fries every week, so I guess I can keep that up, can’t I?”

  I halted mid-stride, and my mouth fell open. I immediately snapped it shut. But when I tried to speak, to say something, anything at all, nothing came out. My gaze turned to Harriet. Her lips twitched. “Sorry, sweet girl, I needed my fix.”

  I forced my fingers to relax their hold on the mat, and I started walking again. “If you don’t want my help with the meal planning, that’s fine.” If Crosby were in charge, Harriet would be eating battered and fried foods from The Catch seven days a week, with a beer to finish it off.

  Harriet released her hold on Crosby and grabbed my hand. “Don’t be like that. You know I love how much you care.” She shot an irritated glance at Crosby. “I just need my fries every now and then.”

  My shoulders slumped. I knew I was holding on to every little thing in my control with a grip that rivaled the Hulk. Any little thing I could manipulate to give Harriet a bit more time, I would tackle like a drill sergeant. But none of it would change the truth. Harriet was dying. And it was only a matter of time before I’d have to say goodbye to the woman who meant everything to me.

  2

  Crosby

  A sharp smack hit the back of my head as the girls disappeared out of the kitchen. “Did someone hit you with a stupid stick this morning?” Harriet asked.

  I rubbed the spot on the back of my skull. “That was a little harsh.” Except, it wasn’t. I’d screwed up royally. Kenna had been buttoned-up and exacting since the moment I met her, but it had only gotten worse since Harriet’s health had taken a turn. It didn’t take a psychologist to know that her world was spinning out of control, and Kenna was doing everything she could to hold on to anything within her grasp.

  “She’s hurting, Crosby.”

  “I know that. I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking. I just like needling her.” Little in my days gave me as much pleasure as seeing pink hit Kenna’s cheeks and hearing her snarky comebacks. Those were the moments I saw her genuinely come alive. I knew what it was like to live life as a half-zombie, following a track I didn’t even remember starting down in the first place. I didn’t want that for Kenna. She had too much life brimming beneath the surface.

  Harriet chuckled. “You two are like cats and dogs.”

  “She needs someone to call her on her bullshit.”

  Harriet sent a pointed stare in my direction as if she were thinking about giving me another smack. “Language, young man.”

  “I’m sorry, Miss Harriet. She needs someone to call her on her bull hockey.”

  Harriet’s lips twitched. “You’re not wrong.” Her focus went soft as if she were lost in a memory. “She’s had a tough life, my sweet girl. The fates have not been kind to her, and she deserves so much more.”

  My chest tightened with a phantom grip. For as much as I tried to pick up stray bits of information from Kenna’s friends, I knew very little about her past. The woman was locked up tight as a drum when it came to discussing anything personal. I hadn’t seen her discuss personal topics with anyone. The only thing I knew was that she had been raised by Harriet. “What happened to her parents?”

  Harriet’s lips thinned into a hard line. “I’m not sure if her mother even knows who Kenna’s father is. Or, if she does, I doubt she ever informed him that he has a daughter. The kind word for her would be flighty. She doesn’t have a mothering bone in her body. She’d dump Kenna on her grandmother and then leave for weeks on end. I thought when Carrie passed away, Kenna’s mother would step up, but she didn’t. When I found out she’d left Kenna alone for three days, I filed for custody. Janet didn’t fight it.”

  My fingers flexed around my glass. The control, the rigidity, it all made a little more sense now. The majority of her childhood had been full of uncertainty. That changed a person’s makeup. “How old was she when she came to live with you?”

  “Eleven.”

  Not young enough. The damage had already been done. I found myself wanting to give Janet Morgan a good shake. “I hate that she went through that.”

  Harriet patted my hand. “Me, too, dear boy. Me, too.” She took me in with an assessing stare. “What’s your interest in her?”

  I held up my hands in mock surrender. “It’s not like that, I swear.”

  Harriet scoffed. “I’ve heard that one before, and from far better liars.”

  It wasn’t a lie. I was attracted to Kenna, but I’d never go there. I respected her too much, knew that she was looking for something I’d never be able to give her. “I’m not going after Kenna. Trust me.”

  “Nothing would make me happier than my two favorites finding partners in each other, but you haven’t exactly been on the hunt for anything permanent. And my Kenna…she deserves a forever kind of love.”

  I rubbed at the back of my neck. “That’s why I’m not going there. Our bickering and maybe some friendship, that’s all I’m looking for.”

  Harriet shook her head and took a sip
of her tea. “That’s your loss. And it’s a great one.”

  I had a feeling Harriet was right, but it didn’t change anything. I needed freedom and the ability to do what I wanted, whenever I wanted. I’d never surrender that piece of myself to another again, it was too great a cost. I pulled out my briefcase. “Let’s look over this paperwork.”

  “I see you avoiding the topic, but go ahead. Just know you can’t run from the demons chasing you forever.”

  Oh, yes, I could. I’d made it my life’s mission, and it was working. I pulled out the papers and set them on the table. Harriet had had me draft a new will for her a few years ago but had called yesterday to ask if we could go over it to make sure everything was in order. “How do you think your family’s going to handle this?”

  “Oh, they can suck it.”

  I let out a bark of laughter. “Brutal in your old age. I like it.”

  She gave a little shrug. “I’ve been more generous with them than I should’ve been. It’s my fault they raised a spoiled-rotten son. Maybe this will be a little wake-up call for them all. But, unfortunately, I think it’s too little, too late.”

  Wills, trusts, and end-of-life arrangements carried with them a truth that had a boldness rarely seen at any other time. They showed you who a person loved and loathed. How forgiving they were. And what they valued above all else. The documents sitting on the worn kitchen table in the palatial but warm estate showed just who Harriet Abbot was and what she prized most.

  My phone rang through the speakers of my truck. Glancing down, tension began to gather at my temples. I hit Accept anyway. “Hey, Mom.”